The pistol was out again with a flourish. This time Leonard faced it
calmly, making no movement to defend himself.

'I would not risk my life to defend either my money or my horse,' he
answered, looking up straight at the muzzle with a steady eye, 'but I
will lay it down gladly, if by so doing I can save thy soul.'

This unexpected answer was altogether too much for the highwayman.
Though his finger was already on the trigger of the pistol, that
trigger was never pulled. He sat motionless on his horse, staring
through the holes in his mask, down into the eyes of his intended
victim, as if he would read his inmost soul.

This astonishing man, whom he had taken for a coward, was calmly ready
and was apparently quite willing to give his life--his life!--in order
to save his enemy's soul. The robber had almost forgotten that he had
a soul. His manhood was black and stained now by numberless deeds of
violence, by crimes, too many remembered and far more forgotten. Yet
he had once known what it was to feel tender and white and innocent.
He had certainly possessed a soul long ago. Did it still exist?
Apparently the stranger was convinced that it must, since he was
actually prepared to stake his own life upon its eternal welfare.
Surprising man! He really cared what became of a robber's soul. It was
impossible to wish to murder or even to steal from such an one. There
could not be another like him, the wide world over. He had best be
allowed to continue on his unique adventure of discovering souls, a
much more dangerous career it seemed to be than any mere everyday
highwayman's 'profession.'

As these thoughts passed through the robber's mind, his hand sought
the folds of his cloak, and then drawing Leonard's purse forth from a
deep convenient pocket, he returned it to its owner, stooping over
him, as he did so, with a low and courtly bow. Next, putting the
horse's bridle also back into Leonard's hand, 'If you are such a man
as that,' the highwayman said, 'I will take neither your money nor
your horse!'

A moment later, as if already ashamed of his impulsive generosity, he
set spurs to his horse and disappeared as swiftly as he had come.

Leonard, meanwhile, remounting, pursued his way in safety, with both
his horse and his money once more restored to him. But more precious,
by far, than either, was the knowledge that his friend's teaching had
again been proved to be true. In his own experience he had discovered
that the